Courtesy Call
by Soul Under
Summary: And to think; this all started with a missing persons report. Dark!fic. Shizaya
1. i need a place to sleep

**c o u r t e s y c a l l **

...

_i need a place to sleep _

_so take this night_

_lay me down on the street_

_i know im not forgiven_

...

* * *

**.**

**the monologue means nothing to me**

**.  
**

.

Fingers twitched; nails scraping lightly against damp asphalt until they met a small puddle near the side of their owners neck. He could feel droplets of water dribble here and there on him, sending a rather distressing chill throughout his bones as he brought himself back into the world of consciousness. His honey-brown eyes cracked open, as the urge to groan escaped him.

He maneuvered himself a little, until he was lying flat on his back, the movement enough to make him nearly vomit. His head was pounding and his stomach churned, but he continued blinking up at the dark gray sky that leaked rain; tall buildings surrounded him. He could feel the crushed glass mixed in his hair scraping agitatedly against his scalp as he remained in a daze, uncertain whether to actually sit up or not.

Maybe he just had a hangover – that would certainly explain his massive headache. He couldn't recall drinking anything, though; and his mouth tasted of nothing more than tobacco and mint mouthwash. The usual.

City lights blinked here and there from windows that lined the ally walls; the darkened atmosphere giving off a much later and gritty appearance in time. He couldn't exactly tell if it was afternoon, or ranging on evening night-time with the obscure sense his sight was greeting him with. The gross scent of old garbage made him cringe in revulsion, craning his neck a bit to look at the dumpster that sat pressed against the far end of the ally way. A sigh made to escape from his lips as he fell back limp to his previous position; flat on his back and staring up at the thick dark clouds that decorated the sky.

Lifting a hand to pat down his torso as he stared up at the walls that boxed in the ally-way he adorned, a frown made it's way to his lips when he found no form of injury marking his person. Sometimes he had to do that, given his body's adherence against physical pain; he couldn't count just how many times he had been hurt or badly injured without realizing it. Slowly, the hand was brought up to his face, before pressing over his eyes in a mild attempt at ridding the headache.

His clothes were soaked through with rain, mud and oil streaks decorating the formal attire he was greatly so enamored with. The thick scent of metal and copper wafted, and when he finally processed the smell, a small gasp was emitted. He quickly pulled his hand away from his face, bringing the other one up so he could properly assess them with wide eyes.

While he himself held no injury of any kind, his hands were caked in old blood that was beginning to flake and peel. The red gore curled over his shirt sleeves, leaving brick colored streaks in their wake. His heart dropped with a sudden onset of panic, and he quickly sat himself up; now completely alert and on edge. He stared down at himself in horror, taking in the way his attire was drenched in blood. But he wasn't hurt.

It belonged to someone else.

His head shook for a moment, unsure of what a proper reaction would be to this sort of thing would be. While he tried to back track just what the _fuck_ could have happened, he was drawing a blank. The rain was beginning to pick up; biting against his skin like shards of ice in the late autumn weather. He shivered from his spot in the ally-way, broken glass and trash littered about his form.

The last thing he could remember was receiving a call from -

_Stop_.

Don't go there. Push it back. Don't think about it.

His eyes snapped shut as he immediately brought a gory hand up to press against his forehead. The rain was helping in the sense of rinsing off the blood, but the chill and uncomfortable wetness was making him feel extremely gross. His thoughts were twisted and turned; an endless spiral that reached no destination. He needed a good shower.

Reaching idly at the brick wall closet to him, he used it for leverage as he pushed himself into standing, leather shoes scraping unsightly against the dirty cement. The movement made his head pound a little harder, and he was craving the sweet release of nicotine – getting drunk also sounded like a pretty good idea, for some unbeknownst reason. He made a mental note to get smashed sometime soon; his body was craving it.

Habitually digging a hand in his pocket, grabbed at the pack of crunched cigarettes that sat snug against his cellphone. Tugging out the two items, his jaw clenched in irritation as he was greeted with the sight of soggy cigarettes, and a dead phone. _Of course. _Tossing the ruined cigarette pack aside towards the revoltingly grotesque dumpster that sat just a few feet from him, he stuffed his cellphone back into his pocket. Bad luck seemed to follow him so immensely, one would think he'd be used to it by now.

Taking a brief moment to consider his appearance in the calmest of manners, he finally frowned to himself as he stripped off the black weskit of his uniform. His bloodied and mud matted white button up shirt followed, and he rolled the item up in the black piece of clothing – hiding it in a bundle. The icy late autumn rain pattered against the bare skin of his torso; washing away traces of dirt and gore. It would have almost been refreshing if it weren't for the fact that he was a bit pissed off at his onset of confusion.

He shivered idly, holding his ruined clothes tighter to his chest as though it would make a difference against the cold – but; he couldn't let himself walk down the street so obviously covered in blood. Too many questions that he himself couldn't even answer.

One end of the ally held a dead end, leaving him with no other option than to take the obvious route. A few twists and turns led him out into an open street; only yet occupied by a few people here and there walking and carrying umbrella's against the downpour. Looking briefly around, until he found himself familiarizing the area he was at; he received a couple odd looks from the fellow residents out and about. He didn't blame them, really; a man walking around shirtless while it's pouring rain outside.

Taking up a particularly quick pace against his usual relaxed and slow ones, Shizuo Heiwajima headed in the direction of his apartment.

He needed answers.

.

* * *

_absolutely horrified; i hope you're satisfied_

**

* * *

**

.

Trudging sloshy rainwater and mud all over his cheap and grimy carpet, Shizuo couldn't help but take a moment to question himself as to when exactly the last time was that he had it cleaned. He tossed the bundle of wet and bloody clothes on his ragged couch, making his way into his tiny and cramped living room. His steps faltered for a moment, mocha eyes staring blankly at the broken television set that set against the opposite wall from his.

The device was thoroughly destroyed, looking almost as if someone had taken a baseball bat to it – busting out the screen and leaving in it shambles. Shizuo couldn't recall anything happening to cause such a scene; the last time he saw it, the television was completely in tact.

"What... the hell...?" He mumbled to himself, confusion settling in as he shook his head in thought.

Backing away from the sight in favor of fresh clothes, Shizuo bee-lined towards the only bedroom his small apartment housed, moving to strip his pants and boxers in the process. He tossed his dead cellphone on his unkempt bed while he finished the process of undressing. Kicking the clothing in the direction of his hamper, not wanting to be bothered with actually putting them there properly, he moved to grab up a new uniform with fresh boxers before something caught his eye.

His gaze locked on the glowing blue numbers of the alarm clock resting on his night stand. The numbers shown themselves back at him without lie, reading; 'Thursday – 2:19pm.'

_That... can't be right._ He thought to himself as his blood ran cold. Just a moment ago it was Wednesday – it was 5pm,Wednesday evening. He had just gotten off work – he remembered preparing some cheap instant ramen for dinner...and then..._blank_. He was waking up in the ally covered in blood.

How in the hell could he just loose 21 hours like that – was it...

Swallowing thickly, Shizuo skipped the thought of a good clean shower, and made to quickly dress in fresh clothes. His hands were shaking a little with nerves after he finished dressing himself; not bothering with the weskit and bow-tie this time. He snatched his cellphone from it's current resting spot on his twisted sheets, and made for the kitchen.

He almost felt like he was on the verge of something – something... it was there. Twisting under the surface... what was it? People don't just suddenly loose track of 21 hours – he needed to see Shinra. Maybe it was something medically wrong; maybe he was sick. What the hell kind of sickness would cause something like memory loss, when he himself didn't exactly feel ill?

Shizuo plugged his dead phone into it's charger, taking a deep breath as he did so. A spare pack of unopened cigarettes sat temptingly next to his stove, and he reached out to take possession of them. He movements halted, however, when his eyes fell on the cup of stale ramen that sat just a few inches away on the counter top._ Fuck..._

Phone still in hand, he slowly slid himself down the cabinets, back pressed solidly against them as the charger cord snaked up over his head and into the socket at the end of the counter. He could hear the traditional round clock hanging on his wall slowly tick away; and the lighting in his apartment was dim. He had no urge to turn on any switches – it'd just add to his already ridiculous electricity bill, so he instead opted for the light being providing from the rainy gray skies outside. His dyed blond hair was still matted and sticking to the sides of his face, ever so slowly drying from his time outside.

Giving it a few more minutes, as he kept his eyes closed in an agonizing silence, he finally tilting his head down to stare at the device he held firmly in his hands. Flipping it open, he delighted himself in seeing that it was charged enough for him to start browsing through it's content. He was hoping to find something, anything – a text message, a call – something that could clue him in on what might have transpired over the past 21 hours of his life.

It didn't quite work out that way.

Both his inbox and outbox were completely empty, and all records of his call logs were erased. Every bit of information saved in his phone was gone, save his rather short contact list. _What the fuck...You talked to someone... there was a call... think - _

He closed his eyes, pressing the phone against his forehead as though hoping it would somehow give him the answers he so desperately craved.

"SHIZUO!... Shi – Shizuo..."

Shizuo jolted as if burned, as a loud screech of terror shrilled through his apartment. He knew that voice anywhere; never having been accustomed to hearing it in any other form than a smooth mechanical essence. Kasuka, it was _Kasuka_. He could hear his younger sibling screaming in pain, in horror; calling his name -

"Kasuka?" He called back, jumping to his feet in instant alarm. He rushed from his kitchen, cellphone long since forgotten as it clattered on the tiled floor.

His heart race had picked up, now pounding in his ears while panic clutched at the frays of his mind; breath quickened as his eyes darted in every direction – every crevice of his tiny apartment; trying to search out a person to match with the voice.

The scream sounded again, a little more distant from behind his back – his bedroom. "Kasuka! Kasuka, I'm coming!" He called back; voice booming in alarm as he barreled himself at full speed in the direction of the shriek.

Thunder crashed outside; lighting up the room in a blinding and unsightly manner the moment he passed the frame of his room. Save the low rumbling of the storm outside, nothing else greeted him. Once again he found himself standing alone in his single apartment.

Silence.

Breathing erratic, with his face a mixture of tension and anxiety, Shizuo nearly crumpled to his knees. Was he hallucinating? No... no, that had to have been real. His head still ached a bit from the way the loud screaming had abused his eardrums. It was real... had to have been...

Covered in cold sweat from the sudden onset of panic and overdrive his body had gone into, he stepped away slowly and careful until he felt his back touching the wall right next to the open doorway. His alarm and confusion was starting to bubble into anger – anger about why he couldn't figure out what the _fuck_ was happening to him.

His fists tightened as a small growl escaped from his throat. Shizuo waited with a forced patience until he felt himself collected enough to make it back into the kitchen.

Not even caring anymore if the phone was fully charged or not, he jerked it from it's plug and socket with a snap of his wrist. Taking a deep and steady breath, he shakily scrolled through his contact list until he hit upon his brother's number. Sometime a while back, Kasuka had bought a second phone for the mere purpose of talking with Shizuo alone – to talk to him as 'Kasuka', and not as 'Yuuhei'.

Holding it to his ear with the jittery movements of barely contained rage, his breath caught when the line clicked after one short ring. "Kasuka-!" He blurted out, before he even let another noise escape.

"_Hey... this is Kasuka. I'm sorry I missed your call, nii-san. I'll return it as soon as -" _Crunch.

Straight to fucking voice-mail.

Closing his hand tightly, Shizuo gritted his teeth before lowering it to examine the current remains of the device. Crushed from his vice-grip, he scowled and dumped the pieces on the counter; snatching up the new pack of cigarettes in the process. He needed to calm down quick before he destroyed his entire home.

Grabbing the only hooded jacket he possessed from where it had been tossed across his sofa, Shizuo slammed the door to his apartment on his way out.

.

* * *

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AN: currently in the process of being re-written. wip.

i would love to hear from you; please tell me what you think.


	2. wish i could tell you a lie

...

_the whole damn thing makes no sense_

_i wish i could tell you a lie_

_hey, come here_

_let me whisper in your ear_

...

* * *

.

**a nightmarish dream like a maze**

.

.

"...Shizuo? I've been calling you all morning – where the hell have you been?"

Standing sopping wet in before his employer's apartment door, Shizuo lowered the hood on his jacket and cringed a bit at the way rain droplets continued to sludge and trickle down his face. He was sure he probably looked like he had gone swimming out in the rain, or something equally intelligent, but he couldn't care less. He didn't exactly own an umbrella, much to his misfortune given the current weather conditions. Right now, though, there were more important things to concern himself with.

"Tom – there's... I don't know." He managed out; not exactly sure how to put 'I'm loosing my fucking mind!' into suitable words without sounding rude. Tom wasn't exactly sensitive to his words, though, so he could probably cuss the man out all he wanted and he would never take offense. Another one of the reason's Shizuo admired him so; Tom was simply laid back and genuinely kind and he saw Shizuo for the person he was – for the _human_ he was. Tom didn't treat him like something to be abhorred and scared of, and he could never express his gratitude for having met the man.

The darker man shook his head a little in disbelief at his friends appearance, but non-the-less stepped aside to let him into his home. He pressed a hand to his forehead – an action he's done a million times before when he was exasperated with something Shizuo had done. "Look, I know you're upset with everything that's going on with Kasuka -"

"What do you mean by that?" Shizuo quickly shot back from where he now stood near the edge of his friends living room. He felt a bit bad about the way he was dripping all over the carpet, but Tom had yet to say anything in complaint. The darker man had a rather decent, and upstanding residential living space; clean furniture and carpet – he made Shizuo feel like a complete slob from how neat and pressed he kept everything.

"Nothing – just..." Tom dropped his arms to his sides, regarding the man a bit calmer; he knew how to deal with him when he was like this. "Okay; if you needed some time, you could have just called and told me. It was hell talking to my boss this morning when I had to explain how you went MIA. For the record – I managed to sucker in a bit of vacation time for you. You've got a full week off."

Shizuo suddenly felt incredibly drained. Guilty about his apparent disappearance on his employer; it was enough to pull away any sense of anger he had once felt, replacing it instead with thick lead in his chest. "...I'm sorry." He murmured softly; he hated being mean, or treating Tom wrong. The man was one of the only few people who _got_ him – who would willingly make finds with him. Shizuo owed him more than he wanted to admit.

The silence lasted for a good couple of minutes, while the blond stared down at his shoes in remorse; looking the all image of a kicked puppy, and Tom let out a small sigh as he caved. "It's okay. I mean... I can't blame you, really."

When he received no form of response from the blond, Tom shook his head and made towards the linen closet in the small hallway of his apartment. Tugging out a couple of cream colored towels, he turned back around only to find Shizuo still rooted to his spot. He knew the man wasn't exactly sensitive, but it seemed like he was taking his little bit of scolding a tad too harshly. He should have expected a reaction like this, though; there were only a couple of people in which Shizuo would listen to – and Tom himself was one.

"Here," he motioned, holding the towels out as a way of apology and peace offering. Shizuo accepted them immediately, mumbling out a thanks in the process.

Letting out a heavy exhale, Tom put his hands on his hips in thought, watching the way the taller man dabbed at his face and hair in a rather faulty attempt to dry himself. He knew it wouldn't be long before the other cracked; Shizuo was always a bit weak when it came to him. Tom knew this likely had to do with the fact that he was one of the man's first real friends.

"Tom," and there it was. "Ummm..." Shizuo lowered his arms, looking off to the side as he did. "I can't remember anything that happened last night."

Tilting his head to the side, Tom was instantly confused and concerned. "What do you mean?"

"I just – I mean..." He was getting frustrated; fumbling over his words as irritation started to re-awaken. "Okay, ah... The last thing I remember; we had just finished work. I was at home... I was making dinner. Then... next thing I know, I'm waking up in an ally." He purposely left out the part about being covered in blood, so as not to scare the man.

"You don't remember anything? At all?" Tom questioned, a small frown gracing his lips.

Shizuo shook his head in an abashed fashion, as his fingers gripped the towels in his hands. "No... I lost 21 hours, Tom. I can't remember anything that happened... and I... I think-" He swallowed heavily and looked away.

"What? What is it?"

"I think... I did something really bad."

Tom watched him carefully for a few long moments, trying to determine the which one of the endless spiral of possibilities that the blond could be referring to. Shizuo cause massive property damage and injuries on a nearly daily basis, and sure, he felt bad about it – but it was never anything that could cause him to act like this. _Did he...?_

Huffing out a heavily exhale, Tom reached out to take possession of the towels he had handed Shizuo, and instantly turned so he could spread them over the sofa. The blond stared at him while he did, looking a bit lost at the movements; maybe he was just deep in thought.

"Sit." Tom instructed, trying hard not to sound too demanding; Shizuo never took lightly to being bossed around in a rude manner, after all. But, he followed the other mans lead, moving to take a seat and being conscious not to let himself drip all over the upholstery.

Sitting on the towel that had been placed on Tom's leather sofa, Shizuo leaned forward so he could rest his chin on one hand; a contemplative position and look. He closed his mocha eyes after relinquishing a small sigh and he back tracked everything that happened over the past hour. He told Tom everything that came to mind; recounting all but the blood and possible-hallucination of Kasuka screaming in his apartment.

He wasn't quite sure what it was all about himself, and he felt he needed to keep that kind of information to himself, rather than scare his friend into believing he'd gone insane. Even if it felt like he was already there.

Tom had himself sitting in the armchair across from him, choosing to remain silent as he waited for the blond to finish.. The air felt tense, especially since Tom wasn't exactly certain how to break bad news to his friend – close as they were, Tom really did love his apartment, and he wasn't completely certain that Shizuo wouldn't destroy it in a fit of rage.

"I kind of... feel like I'm going crazy." Shizuo murmured, the heel of his hand pressing against his temple as though a headache was beginning to form once again.

"...Shizuo," Tom started, scratching idly at his neck as the blond turned just enough to regard him in question. "you don't remember anything about Kasuka?"

The blond narrowed his eyes a little, moving slowly to sit up in a more alert and suspicious fashion. "That's the second time you've mentioned him."

Clearing his throat, Tom leaned forward; much more serious than before. "Okay... alright, Shizuo. I'm going to tell you something that you're not going to be happy with... but, it's best that you hear it now before you see it all over the news, again." He exhaled heavily, as he tried to re-arrange his words. "Your bother has gone missing."

"..._What?_"

Tom cringed a little at the sharp tone, but held up a hand to silence the other into letting him continue. "I'm not really too informed... but, it was all over the news yesterday, and still is today. There's a ton of different stories and scenario's, but the most popular one's are revolving around either him being kidnapped, or in rehab."

Shizuo's breath caught in his throat, blinking a little as his body gave a quick jerk. There were small images – nearly nonexistent, flashing here and there in his mind. He could vaguely remember looking at a television screen – seeing his brothers face as they played out all the possible reasons before the disappearance of Yuuhei Hanejima. "How..." He had to stop to collect himself before speaking again. "how long has he been missing?"

Tom shook his head as he ran a hand over his mouth in concentration. "About three days... I think. I'm not too sure, it could be two." He flicked his gaze back to the blond who was now staring at the carpet with wide, slightly panicked eyes. "Shizuo?"

There was a small speck of dirt on the floor that had no doubt been drug in by Shizuo himself, and he kept his eyes locked on it with the utmost attention. Something was there – he could feel it. So very, very close... The speck looked something akin to a black bug; and the first thing that broke his thoughts was the similarities it held towards a flea.

Flea.

Fucking – _flea_.

Suddenly he could feel cold hands touching the nape of his neck, bile rising in his throat at the sudden sense of revolting disgust. A ghost of a touch - warm breath tickling his ear in a way that left him unsettled and nearly homicidal; and he could hear the words far too clearly – see that black clothed body so easily...

"_You already know what I want."_

"Shizuo? Are you alright?" Tom questioned from the silence his friend had lapsed into; the blond's gaze nearly horrified and his eyes unblinking. The darker man was worried; maybe he broke the news too suddenly – not enough tact. He was almost afraid that Shizuo would go into a rage and tear apart his apartment.

Flicking his attention over to his employer, as if seeing him for the first time – realizing where he was, Shizuo pressed his hands against his eyes for a moment, before smoothing them back over his damp and messy hair. "Yeah..." He spoke, voice a lot more calm and clear than he truly felt; inside he was a swirling chaos of confusion and anger and frustration.

Moving to stand as Tom quickly followed the action, Shizuo turned his back to the other as he started for the exit. "Yeah – I'm okay. I just... sort of remembered something. It's... really vague. I need to go figure it out." He quickly exited his friends apartment, leaving the other man standing in the middle of his living room with a sense of dread and worry.

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* * *

_someones always coming around here trailing some new kill_

* * *

_._**  
**

His leather shoes made soft slaps against the wet pavement as he walked, hood drawn over his head again despite the fact that the rain had let up enough to be nothing more than a light afternoon sprinkle. The streets were still relatively empty in the depressing weather, and Shizuo knew that in a few hours they'd be packed with children and teenagers on their way home from school.

Chancing it; he lit himself a cigarette while using his hood to block away the majority of the drizzling rain; enough to keep the white stick from getting put out. A few quick inhales against the cool and crisp air warmed his lungs, and calmed his jittery nerves. He was starting to feel pissed again, and he knew the moment he reached his destination he could release some of his pent up rage.

"-of the famous actor, Yuuhei Hanejima -..."

Shizuo's ears perked up the moment he heard that name spoken. Stopping abruptly in his tracks, he tilted his head back enough so that he could stare up at the excessively large flat screen mounted on cornering buildings; used to report news and such to the general public. A frown eased itself over his lips, as he tuned himself into the talking reporter; a picture of his brothers face on the screen next to her.

"-still couldn't book a formal interview with his manager to clue us in on additional details. But it is official that Hanejima is not in rehab or the likes – his disappearance is just that; a disappearance. Rumors that he's been kidnapped have not yet been confirmed, and there has been no contact with his relatives."

_Plural? Fucking... all Kasuka and I have is each other. There is no one else._ Shizuo couldn't help but commentate in his head, his expression beginning to bleed into a glare of aggravation at the news reporters choice in words.

"On set of his newest movie was the last place Hanejima was seen. He had gone missing about halfway though their shooting, and there have been no sightings ever since. It has been approximately 2 days since he was declared missing, and police are still investigating this tragic issue."

The reporter continued to rattled on about the recent crime increase in Tokyo, and Shizuo lost interest immediately. Taking up his pace again, he seethed silently to himself as he stalked a path he'd taken all too many times before. _So... it had been two days... But still... Kasuka...what the hell happened?_

Lost in his head with questions wrapping around questions, Shizuo didn't register where he was walking as he stared heatedly down at the cement; and abruptly found himself colliding rather harshly with another body as it rounded a corner in a bit of a hurry. An equally blond teenage male dressed in a white hoodie and jeans went sprawling down on the pavement, letting out a sharp "Ow!" in the process.

Taken aback by the sudden collision, Shizuo felt himself a little guilty for not paying enough attention to where he was going. He couldn't help but mentally question to himself why the teenager was not in school – skipping?

He stepped a bit closer to the teen and he was about to offer out a hand to help him up, but the other male jerked in fear after having looked up, and realizing who he had run into.

"H-heiwajima-san!" The blond teen stuttered, eyes wide in fear and shock, and Shizuo stepped back a little in apprehension. He'd seen this kid many times before, and he searched his memory banks for the younger males name. Shizuo trailed his eyes over the various scrapes and bandages marring one side of the others face, who had still made no move to get up; sitting silently with a horrified look. Kida. That was the name.

He was about to reach his hand out to him again, before drawing back as the movement caused the teen to flinch almost habitually. "What the hell kid – d'you think I'm gonna hurt you?" Shizuo grunted around his cigarette; this kid was fucking bizarre.

Kida backed away little, a forced smile making its way to his lips even though his obvious fear shown through. "Heh...is...t-that a trick question?" He asked with a bit of a jittery and nervous laugh.

Shizuo raised an eyebrow at the others reaction, eyes briefly flicking to the bandages on his face once again. "No... it's not."

"R-right... ah – um..." Kida stammered, moving to quickly right himself in a standing position; his attention never once straying from the taller blond before him. He looked hesitant, unsure – as though he were waiting for the older man to attack him for some unknown reason. "Okay... haah... Heiwajima-san." He gave a quick and overly polite bow. "I'm sorry... um... I, uh... see you... later?" It came out awkward and fumbled; and the kid was making Shizuo nervous simply by reaction and association alone.

Letting out a noncommittal noise of confusion and conformation, Shizuo watched as the younger blond gave him another shaky smile before turning and sprinting off in another direction – far from him.

Observing the teen as he ran from him, Shizuo remained rooted to his spot for a moment before grumbling to himself as he took up his rough stride towards Shinjuku once more.

What the fuck was that about?

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an:

i would love to hear from you.


	3. trash into trash

...

_i've done all my addition_

_a gun plus a gun equals bang bang bang_

_i've done all my division_

_trash into trash equals trash flavored trash_

_...  
_

_

* * *

_

**.**

**a place where suffering is just a game**

**.**

.

It was amazing, really, the way a single destination could make Shizuo suddenly hate life and all of it's aspects. He glared angry holes at the wooden door-frame before him, skimming his eyes over the way it looked banged apart; it's hinges cracked and hardly safe looking. It looked as if someone as broken in; kicked the door open and entered by brute force alone, leaving the piece of wood shambled. He didn't particularly care about it's appearance, honestly, but the fact that he was standing here was enough to grate on his nerves. He swore to himself so many times in the past that he'd never come back. Yet, here was – yet, a-fucking-gain.

He couldn't even begin to recall just how many times he'd been sucked into that fuckers little web of traps and lies; but the fact hat he always came back for more said even more about Shizuo than it did for the flea. Perhaps he was even more twisted than his adversary – it was a possibility that he would not overlook.

Rapping a few times on the door before him, he nearly lost himself in the fact that he was actually trying to be polite and considerate when this was his rat of a mortal enemy. He had no sense for such frivolities.

The silence reigned, and Shizuo was steadily readying himself to kick the door open and barge right in, but before his action could even be delivered; the frame was pulled open on damaged hinges, and the blond found himself face to face with a rather peeved looking woman. _Namie_, Shizuo thought to himself, as he recounted her name.

The woman took a moment to briefly look him over, before rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh. She turned her head a little, whilst making room for the blond to enter. "I'll go get ready to call the ambulance." Was the only statement she made, as Shizuo entered the loft with a hint of aggravation. The abrupt bang from behind alerted him to the fact that the peeved woman had exited; leaving him to fend alone. Like he cared.

"My, Shizu-chan..." Came that condescending voice he hated so fucking much. Arms crossed with a cruel smile crossing his face; Izaya stood leaning back against his ivory desk, an air of clear contempt radiating from his form. A dark purplish ring circled around his neck; spots looking rather akin to finger prints, and he had a rather large bruise planted on his cheek. Scanning red eyes over the blond, as he stood in the center of the office, Izaya let out an amused chuckle. "You look like a wet dog."

"Shut the fuck up, fucking flea!" Shizuo burst, unable to keep the anger inside after having seen the mere presence of the other. S_top – no. Fucking... calm down. Calm yourself. You need to get to the bottom of this. __**Calm. The. Fuck. Down.**_ He thought, as his hands gripped into tightened fists and he felt his nails dig into his palm; a slight sting of sweat mixing with a wound alerting him to it.

Izaya just grinned at the response, making no move to show he was the slightest bit frightened or ill-at-ease by the blond's appearance in his office, despite the way it looked like he'd been beat up. "And really," He continued to prattle on. "visiting me two times in one week? I'm awfully flattered I seem to be on your mind so much these days."

That was it – Shizuo blinked, anger simmering down a moment as he thought over the words the brunet had spoken. "...Last night." He started; his voice a little rough from sudden realization that Izaya was the only goddamn person he knew that could give him some connection as to what happened. "I was here... last night?"

"Tch, of course. You're the only one who could've done this to me." Izaya sneered, red eyes narrowing a bit as he made a small gesture towards the hefty bruising on his neck and cheek.

In that moment, a small click was made; Shizuo was at Izaya's loft last night, and he had attempted to strangle the man at some point after beating him up. It was a rather satisfying thing to think about, and Shizuo wondered if he had hurt Izaya anywhere else under that long sleeved shirt and pants.

The blond made no move to utter a response, as he shifted his distracted gaze over the the bookcase in the corner; not really focusing on anything in particular. He looked a bit sad – worried, that was the more accurate term – and Izaya instantly found himself intrigued by such a reaction. Pushing himself away from the desk, he took a couple of confidant and assured steps towards the blond, who immediately began to tense at the movement.

Bending a bit so he could look upwards at Shizuo's face; he searched the others slowly heating and agitating expression, locking eyes briefly as he began to come to a sort of realization and connection to himself.

"Ne, Shizu-chan? Did the information you bought last night help at all?"

_Keep yourself calm, you jackass. _Shizuo screamed in his head; body shaking a bit with his steadily building rage for this type of situation. "I...bought information from you?"

That was all Izaya needed; the statement working something of a conformation for him as he came to the realization on the blond's questioning gaze. "I see..." He murmured, nodding a bit to himself as stood up straight once more, turning his back on the other and making his way back to his desk. Sitting back heavily on his leather chair, Izaya took a relaxed position as he grinned at the pissed of blond before him.

"Shizu-chan repressed everything, huh?"

Furrowing his eyebrows, Shizuo growled a bit in frustration. "What do you mean, 'repressed'?"

The brunet merely grinned a bit as he moved to pick up a small hand-held book sitting off to the side of his desk. Opening and flipping through a few pages a little over half-way past, he didn't bring his eyes away from the material as he read aloud for the other: "Repression. 'The rejection from consciousness of painful or disagreeable ideas, memories, feel-"

"I _know_ what it FUCKING MEANS, you goddamn louse!" Patience was dwindling fast, and Shizuo wasn't sure of himself not to kill the other right here and now. He needed answers to the events over the past 21 hours, and currently Izaya was his only lead. It was obvious, however, that this was going no where fast for him.

Watching him carefully for a few moments, red eyes picking apart his very appearance; Shizuo thought Izaya's expression struck him as rather oddly satisfied. "... You had something to do with Kasuka's disappearance, didn't you?"

Barking out a sarcastic laugh, Izaya shook his head in mirth. "My dear Shizu-chan, we already went over this before! I have no stomach for repetitive games." He stated honestly with a shit eating grin and his red eyes glittered a bit with amusement.

"I don't fucking care – just tell me where he is!"

The brunet chucking a little softer, placing a hand over his face for a moment as the laughter escaped. "Haah... it's like a repeat of last night. How fun." He lowered his hand to regard the blond with a bit more of a serious expression; though his blood-red irises still glinted with that childish humor. "Ne, Shizu-chan – I had nothing to do with Kasuka. You're the one I find entertainment in prodding at, not mister move star; Yuuhei Hanejima. Now, please stop accusing me of crimes I didn't commit; 'kay?"

"...What information did I buy from you?"

"Oh? You mean you actually want to talk to me now – not accuse me of things?" _Mother fucker._

Shizuo felt like he was being led in fucking circles. It was the thing he hated most about Izaya – his tendency to talk and talk and talk; using his words to keep you enthralled and confused. Shizuo wasn't having it. He wanted to get out of here as soon as he knew everything the brunet had to offer; which obviously wasn't going to be anytime soon, it seemed. Aggravation was tickling his nerves, and he could feel his pulse begin to pump hard with rising blood pressure. The maggot was going to wind up killing him one day through a heart attack or stroke.

Leaning forward in his chair, so he could place his rest his chin on his hand, elbow balanced on his desk; Izaya continued to smile just because he knew it piss off his adversary. But, the blond wasn't exactly one of much depth; everything was always placed so blatantly on the surface. He was a toy that one could easily grow bored with. Shizuo was a very simple person; he didn't lie, or hide things. He was an open book; something that would seem like it'd be easy for Izaya to manipulate, but over and over again the dept collector would surprise him with moves he's never predicted.

Shizuo was impulsive.

Staring the brunet down, Shizuo couldn't help but play out the scenario in his head of slamming Izaya's pretty fucking face down on his expensive desk in hopes it'd wipe that smug ass smirk off – even just a little. Add a few more bruises and injuries to the collection he's obviously already given the man.

"Shizu-chan, there isn't much about this topic I can really tell you. Mostly because I have nothing to do with it, aside from the fact that you busted into my home last night. You wanted information on who could have taken Kasuka. I told you everything I knew." Izaya explained flippantly, idly checking his cellphone in an obnoxious manner. Namie had sent him a text saying she was going home for today; not wanting to have to deal with their fighting and bickering, and he didn't bother typing back anything in response. He knew she wouldn't exactly care.

Shizuo glared hatefully at the other man, before he took a rather deep and steady breath to restrain himself from barreling forward and snapping the flea's neck. Smoothing a hand over his face in a calming fashion, Shizuo turned away from a brief moment; hoping that not looking directly at Izaya's face could help his violent thoughts towards the informant. His self control wasn't going to last very long at this rate.

"Of course," Izaya continued, as he stared at the blond's back. "your money isn't good enough for me. Not like you could afford my services, anyway. But, at least I got something else instead."

Pausing for a moment at the suggestive tone in the brunet's voice, Shizuo slowly turned himself to face the man whose red eyes showed sick amusement. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Placing his cellphone down on the desk, Izaya smoothly stood from his chair; cocky smirk playing once more across his lips. He stepped before the blond with a good few feet between them, and placed his hands on his hips as he observed unblinkingly. "What do you think it means, Shizu-chan?" His tone was playful and light, and the dept collector could feel himself loosing the battle with his own self restraint.

"Fuck you." Shizuo spat; his reply nearly instantaneous the moment he heard the question voiced.

Shrugging his shoulders, Izaya crossed his arms while he regarded the man at length. "That you did, Shizu-chan. Honestly, it almost hurts to walk today after-"

"Shut your goddamn mouth." He couldn't believe it – refused to. While it had happened on several occasions in the past, Shizuo refused to believe he'd willingly sell himself to the man in exchange for information. _But – fuck... Kasuka. _Playing it over in his head, revulsion swam it's way into his gut when he came to the decision that, if his brother was in danger, he'd most certainly do anything to save him.

"I'm just telling you the truth, Shizu-chan. Isn't that what you wanted?" The informants voice was laced with a patronizing sweetness, that left Shizuo reeling with an unadulterated loathing for the man. "I hate you – I really do. But... I want what you have."

"And what is that?" The body guard questioned, voice a little lower with his sudden realization. Shizuo felt a bit sick; still unable to process what the brunet was informing him of. They'd been over this before – Izaya's twisted obsession; but it didn't make it any easier to accept. Shizuo could never – _would_ never accept it.

"Your strength; your power..." Izaya explained, stepping a bit closer in the process; his movements so sly that it barely registered at all. "I want Shizu-chan's abuse."

"You're a sick fuck."

"You said the same thing last night." The informant was closing in; a mere foot or so distancing their mutual aggressive hate. "But then again, you hate me just as much; so it's only to be expected."

The muscles in Shizuo's arms twitched for a brief moment, and he was so sure that he was about to strike forward and wrap his fingers around that bruised neck to finish what he had started. Instead, he remained rooted to his spot in favor of glaring instead. He was tense; his body strung tight and stiff and he kept his jaw clenched shut as he stared at the other man.

They lapsed into a tense silence, as ruby eyes remained locked with mocha; a small battle of wills taking place in the quiet apartment. "You're sunglasses are sitting on my bathroom counter. You left them there last night." The informant spoke, his voice also lowering in a more coy and alluring manner.

The quiet stillness lasted for a few more beats as the stared each other down; animosity constricting the air around them in an unpleasant fashion. Finally, Shizuo broke it off with a small growl. Stalking angrily past the man he held so much resentment towards; the blond headed towards the bathroom to retrieve his missing glasses, satisfied in knowing that there weren't footsteps following him.

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AN

please review and tell me what you think. i would love to hear from you; i don't want to feel like my words are wasted.


	4. murder the king

...

_theres blood in the bathtub_

_baby, murder the king_

_theres blood on the moon_

_theres blood on just about everything_

...

* * *

**.**

**carcasses blazed before you with the rising sun**

**.**

.

Shizuo always detested Izaya's apartment – it was almost a sense of jealousy, if he were to be honest with himself. The maggot lived such a comfortable and luxurious lifestyle, yet Shizuo camped out in a ramshackle apartment on the bad side of town. Not like he had much of a choice, anyway. He couldn't get hired anywhere else, so he had to make do with what he earned from his only lost-standing job and live off of instant ramen.

Glancing behind him briefly from where he stood on the second story of the loft, he nodded to himself when Izaya was no where in sight. Probably still downstairs doing god-knows-what; which was all the better for him. Stepping into the small hallway that separated Izaya's bedroom and bathroom, the blond couldn't keep himself from making a stop to glance in the single bedroom – a place he himself had unfortunately been all too many times before.

Izaya didn't really have anything too personal about his own bedroom; a king-sized bed, dresser, and night stand. There weren't clothes tossed around; nor trinkets hanging on the walls and setting on surfaces – he didn't live like Shizuo, who didn't really care about his living quarters.

The blond shivered idly as he stared into the room; small flashes came here and there - cold hands gripping at his back while their fingernails scratched and raked down. A hot, breathy moan tittering into his ear before giving a few nips at the lobe. Shizuo could remember being in Izaya's room last night; fighting with himself while he caved and gave the brunet what he wanted and – fuck. It really was true.

Sick with himself and his own actions, Shizuo growled a little in frustration; turning away so he start towards the over sized bathroom the flea had the liberty of owning. Flicking the light switch on as he entered, his mocha eyes instantly fell on the blue shaded sunglasses that sat folded on the counter top; the only personal object in sight. _Fucking neat freak._

A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he moved to stand properly before the sink, hands gripping at the edge of it for a moment before he lifted his face to look at himself in the mirror. He was trying to build himself up; trying to gather some mental strength because he knew he had to walk back downstairs and face that maggot once again.

His eyes grew a little sad at his own reflection; looking as though he hadn't slept in days, hair dried and stringy from the rainwater that had previously soaked it. He looked drawn – worn, as though he had just come home from some kind of war. Shizuo figures, with everything that's happened over the past couple days, he had all the reason to look that way. He'd never felt so stressed before in his lifetime.

Bending forward, he rested his forehead on the back of his arms for a moment, taking the time to collect himself once more. He wasn't feeling angry – he didn't know what it was. Depression, maybe? Worry – for Kasuka, and self-hatred for giving into Izaya last night.

A small dripping of liquid caught his attention in the quiet and stillness bathroom; echoing off the walls in an obscene fashion. It almost seemed to grow louder while he kept to himself, and it was honestly beginning to get on his nerves.

Lifting his head to glare at the closed shower curtain, a frown smoothed across his lips as he determined the shower spout to be the cause behind the noise. He trailed his eyes over the flowery, yet Victorian print that decorated the drape – matching the wallpaper that surrounded him – Shizuo nearly felt the urge to roll his eyes at such a girly choice in decorating; that was, until the smell hit him.

It was faint, but still there – a metallic essence that seemed all too familiar, before suddenly it was growing stronger and more thick as he stared at the shower curtain before him. Blood.

The silence was deafening; leaving him overly alert and on edge as the steady 'drip drip drip' echoed against patterned walls. A feeling of dread sunk deep within him, carving around his bones as anxiety soon joined.

He could feel his heart begin to beat in his eardrums with caution and warning, and his breath hallowing out in trepidation. Reaching an arm out with the utmost hesitance, he swallowed heavily as he took hold of the shower drape. Taking a quick moment to steady himself out of sudden alarm and knowing, Shizuo tightened his grip and pulled the curtain open.

The smell of blood and rotting flesh bombarded him vulgarly; and a loud cry tore itself from his lips.

The smell alone was enough to make him gag; breath caught short in a gasp as bile rose in his throat. Stumbling back in a horrified fashion, his fingers caught – gripping against the marble counter top of the bathroom sink, as he stared at the disgusting sight before him. Bodies twisted; joints cracked and muscles torn as they bent into turns and styles not meant for the human skeleton. A string of claret intestines slipped from the side of the white alabaster, trailing to tiled floor with a sick 'squish'.

Ashen skin tainted with dark blue veins kept his vision filled; he stared into the faces of four dead men piled in the bathtub. Their expressions stricken with fear and pain; stuck that way since they met their obviously violent end. Their bodies lay naked; soaking in the tub that held filled with a thick dark red liquid – soaking in a bathtub of their own blood. Ghost eyes; pale blue and lifeless stared unseeingly at the wall to his left.

A decapitated head sat skewered on the shower nozzle, steadily dripping down into the tub, where it's body lay a mere foot in distance.

There were screams – faint, yet echoing off the papered walls; screeching in his ears insanity and pleads for life. _Stop it_. He wanted to shout at them. _Stop it – it's not my fault! _His mental anguish went unheard as the cries of terror and death locked away his words.

Shizuo's panicked eyes flicked to the side, his attention catching towards the severed arm resting daintily across the back of the toilet; a protruding bone sticking out towards him surrounded by dripping muscle and meat. Time was slowing, his heart was racing, and if he didn't catch his breath soon he would hyperventilate and most likely faint from oxygen overdose. The bathtub was beginning to fill to the rim with blood.

The curdling smell so thick and rich he could taste it on his tongue; Shizuo froze when he felt a small weight in his palm. Looking down at his closed fist with a half a sense of realization; he found himself holding a human heart, as it steadily pulsated in his grip – speckling blood out of it's vessels and down his forearm with each pump.

"Sh..shit-..." Was the only words he managed to whisper, before the organ fell from his grip. Making to take another step back, he felt his boot slip; forcing him to slip backwards as he fell to the ground with a sharp 'thunk'. The heart lay a few feet from his person, and he tried to crawl away – a slight guttural sound of fear escaping from his throat as he did. The blood was overflowing from the tub; spilling out and over the tiles.

His action proved useless; hands and elbows slipping across the tiled floor that was slick with blood, preventing him from being able to find a grip to right himself up. The heart continued to pulsate despite it's lack of connection to a human body.

Looking around himself, Shizuo could do nothing but gasp quick and short breaths at the full display of the bathroom. Claret splatters across the pretty papered walls, while he himself sat in a puddle of gore. Chunks of flesh and muscle resting in the pooling of blood that was continuing to flood over the bathtub and out before him.

"...Shizu-chan?"

Tilting his head backwards, he caught sight of Izaya standing over him; looking down with a rather unreadable expression. The blond's jaw opened, as if to speak, but no words could form from his tongue. _You did this – you sick fuck! You fucking... WHAT THE FUCK, IZAYA? _Shizuo screamed inside his mind, staring up at the brunet with a terror stricken expression.

"Wh-wha..." The words were barely whispered in fear, as the dept collector gestured blindly at the bathtub overflowing with blood, guts, and bodies; the mangled flesh and severed limbs that decorated the room. He looked pointedly at it all, before glancing back up at the informant towering over him. Izaya raised a thin eyebrow; narrow gaze traveling over the disgusting gore before looking back to the blond in question. Wordlessly, he stepped around the fallen man, moving in front of his shaking and terrified form before crouching down.

Effectively having his view of the bathroom mostly blocked with Izaya sitting directly before him, Shizuo shifted his gaze from over the brunet's shoulder; meeting eyes the color of fresh blood. He shivered at the similarities and he felt so close to utter insanity at the mere thought and sight.

"Shizu-chan..." Izaya spoke again; pale hands reaching out to cup his face in a falsely tender intimation. "...are you hallucinating?"

"Wha-... you..." The blond breathed out with the slight near-hyperventilation gasps. Cool fingers smoothed back near his ears; thumbs running gently across his cheeks that left Shizuo feeling fallacious and ill with cognizance on who was touching him in such a manner.

Izaya's lips slid into an amused grin; fingers continuing their tiny strokes against tan skin. "You are... aren't you? That's fascinating..."

Shaking his head as if in denial, Shizuo leaned to sit up properly; the brunet nearly straddling him from the change in movement. He looked over Izaya's shoulder, seeing nothing but a clean a neatly bleached white alabaster bathtub; walls plastered with expensive paper, and the tiles bare of any traces of red.

Coming back to himself, Shizuo found he was staring at an overly clean and expensive bathroom; panting in fear from his position on the floor, with his enemy sitting over his thighs.

"Shizu-chan's insanity is very attractive..." Izaya murmured as he moved closer; sarcastic grin still painted across his lips while he searched the blond's mocha eyes, as though seeking some kind of answer to the madness within.

Terror-stricken and nearly delirious from all the confusion of his delusion; Shizuo shifted his attention back to the face so close to his own. Izaya looked entertained – as though the blond was some kind of new toy or movie that one fell in love with. This was all a game to him.

It wasn't until the brunet's lips made to brush against his own that Shizuo acted; anger flooding him almost instantaneously, as he shoved the informant away from him with a savage growl. Gripping that bruised and pale neck, the blond slammed the smaller man against the cabinets beside him; the brunet's head snapping brutally against the edge of the marble counter top.

Izaya didn't make a noise at the treatment; his devilish grin never once leaving his face as Shizuo tightened his grip around his throat, squeezing away his air supply.

Not even making an attempt to struggle against the hold, Izaya arrogantly smirked up at the blond that bound him down with a vice grip. He could feel his throat closing; vocal cords straining as small wheezy breathes made it through his mouth and nose; it was obvious he was enjoying this all way too much – from the delusion to the abuse, Izaya wanted it all.

Growling low in his throat, mocha eyes heated with homicidal rage as he glared at his captive; Shizuo gritted his teeth together as he took in the ever so mocking expression that always seemed to haunt him in his dreams. It was like he could never escape – never get far enough away from those red eyes that glittered amusement out of pain like the fucking sadomasochist he really was.

Pulling an arm out; the blond didn't even think – didn't even let it register before loosened his choke hold and struck forward, fist colliding viciously with that damn girly face. He felt satisfied in the way Izaya's head snapped to the side from the blow; a sharp clicking sound alerting him to the fact that the brunet's jaw had clacked shut from the hit. Keeping his face down for a minute, Izaya's shoulders started to shake a little before another blow to his face was delivered.

"Heh... heh..." Shizuo's mouth twisted into an angry frown as small chuckles began to escape the brunet while he maintained his tight grip on the smaller mans form.

"Aaah...haaa...ha ha ha..." Izaya lifted his head; nose bleeding from the blond's previous impact, while more blood gushed from his mouth and over his chin after having bitten his tongue. "Haaa... ahahahaha! Heh heh – Hehahaha!" The laughing was borderline hysterical, and Shizuo was repulsed in the way blood was bubbling and hacking from the brunet's mouth; still sounding wheezy and strained from having previously been choked ans crushed.

Letting the informant go, Shizuo slowly pushed himself away from the other who continued to cackle and laugh at his reaction; making no move to budge from his spot against the sink cabinets. Standing up; still at slight awe with himself over what had just transpired in the bathroom, Shizuo stared down at the chuckling man who merely stared up at him with a playful amusement that was shattered from the way his own blood coated his mouth, chin and bruised neck.

His skin was clammy; still prickling from the cold sweat of fear, his heartbeat slowly beginning to calm down to a regular pace. Shizuo bared his teeth for the briefest of moments, bending one knee just long enough to deliver a swift kick against the brunet's side; the blow enough to send him toppling over and skidding across the bathroom floor, his cackling beguilement only pitching higher in the process.

Hands twisting into tight and angry fist, the blond stalked out into the tiny hallway, moving quickly and swiftly down the stairs of the informants loft. Corybantic laughter bounced off of the walls; echoing thoroughly through the entire office; following his steps in a nearly mocking sort of manner as the dept collector quickly fled himself from the informants apartment.

The moment his boots touched the pavement outside Izaya's apartment, Shizuo took off into a sprint; clouting against the asphalt as he ran directionless towards his hometown of Ikebukuro. His mind raced at the possibilities – swimming with confusion as to the recent investments in his own questions. He was loosing his patience – he needed answers that he didn't know where to get.

"_Have you ever killed anyone before?"_

Chatty teenagers and kids passed him by as he ran; school had likely been let out not too long ago. The skies had cleared somewhat; still dark and gray with a hefty depression that hung in near-rainy weather, but for the most part the air was drying out. Shizuo considered going to Shinra's – maybe the doctor could help him clear his mind of it all; it wouldn't hurt to try.

His lungs were starting to ache a bit; the mixture of cold air and his chain-smoking habit beginning to make him slow into a mere jog. The physical exertion was working wondrous on calming his anger – using the activity as something of an outlet for frustration over the days events.

"_All I'm looking for, here, is a bit of understanding. Do you follow?_"

_No. _Shizuo thought, breath panting harsh puffs of white against the icy late autumn air. _I don't fucking follow, so why do you FUCKING explain it to me?_ He wanted to tear something apart; bang out his anger that only seemed to continuously get replaced over and over again. He felt like a rat in some kind of maze; being testing on and played with – but never reaching the inevitable end. Damn it all if he couldn't find some way to blame all this shit on Izaya.

He didn't know exactly how long he ran; passing by strangers on their way home from school or work, some of which gave him unusual looks at his frantic pace. He didn't give a shit, in all honesty. He just wanted to find out what the hell was going on; it didn't matter what it took to get there. He'd tear himself wide open if it meant he'd find the memory of last night's events buried deep inside. Break his skull open and run fingers through the slick brain matter so he could find the answers.

Izaya's words still ticked him; Repression. Had he really gone and repressed everything – was it all that bad? What the hell could he have done, or gone through to warrant that sort of reaction? The lapses in memory – the voices that spoke here and there... Shizuo couldn't decipher whether he was hallucinating again, or if he was actually remembering something that had been said to him last night. It was probably a mixture of both.

His steps began to slow down a little; chest heaving with pants from running, and he found himself standing in one of the more trashy and shady parts of Ikebukuro, just near the outskirts. If he did his calculations correctly, he was about 10 minutes from the ally he had woken up in.

"_...do you want to say goodbye?"_

Bending forward so he could brace his hands on his knees, he stared blankly down at the pavement as he caught his breath. He didn't know what that was all about – why he had run so far for so long; but it felt right. Like there was something he was close to – something he was running towards. Maybe he was subconsciously trying to get back to the place he had woken up in. Shinra would have a fucking field day figuring out his mental workings.

Glancing briefly to the side; Shizuo was caught staring at himself as it was reflected through the window of an abandoned store; it's inside barren and dark from lack of attention and use. Taking a few more steadying breaths, he stood up straight so he could walk to better view himself; once again unhappy with his own appearance.

His teeth gritted together for a moment, and suddenly his reflection was shattered before he even knew what happened; glass falling in an alluring manner. His fist was held out before him; shards piercing his skins and leaking blood from the action he had taken, and the broken glass was tittering on the pavement like a tortured piece of music.

Shizuo didn't know why, but he couldn't fucking stand to even look at himself.

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* * *

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an

i would love to hear from you, please review. i don't want to feel like my words are wasted.


	5. theyll kill you in time

...

_the things that you tell yourself_

_theyll kill you in time_

_your cold white brother alive in your blood_

_spinning in the night sky _

_..._

_

* * *

**.**  
_

**when they clean the streets i'll be the only shit thats left behind**

**.****  
**

.

The wood was soaked up with rainwater; dusted here and there with mud and dirt, and a heavy sigh escaped from Shizuo's lips as he moved to take a seat upon the benches frame. Staring blankly down at his newly busted up hand; a frown eased it's way across his face as he used his other hand to pick out the shards of glass that lay embedding in the skin. The damage wasn't bad; merely inconvenient with the face that his blood pressure was making the bleeding process a bit worse.

The area around him had nearly deserted – people having seen him punch through the glass ran away or took cover, his short temper was all too well known; a factor that was endlessly depressing.

It was quiet apart from the occasional rumble from the sky that hung above him, and Shizuo was beginning to feel sadness and anxiety settling in once again; covering up his aggravation and insecurities. His hand closed around the bits of leaking blood, and he lowered his head in desperation while closing his mocha eyes in thought. He was really getting fucking sick of all this.

"You hurt yourself, again."

Snapping his eyes open in sudden shock at the voice, Shizuo quickly looked up and over to the profile of the body sitting next to him on the bench. Kasuka stared ahead at the abandoned shops shattered window pane; his expression remaining the emotionless stoic print he was known for.

"Ka...Kasuka?" Shizuo questioned, his voice a bit rough to the sound; unsure.

The younger male lowered his gaze to the ground, watching Shizuo's injured hand from the side of his vision. "You need to control yourself better, Nii-san." He murmured; tone just as calm and monotone as ever. Shizuo thought he had never heard anything so beautiful in his life.

"Where have you been? You-... you've been missing for two days..." Shizuo felt choked – it hurt to see his younger brother; a sort of happy pain, and he wasn't aware or comprehending the thought behind such an emotion.

"You already know the answer to that question." Kasuka was dressed in nothing more than a gray button up shirt and black slacks, and Shizuo couldn't help but think he was under dressed for the outside weather. He was going to get sick with such a lack of clothing.

Blinking with a small shake of his head, Shizuo let out a slight humorless laugh as he stared at his eerily calm and serene brother. "No... I don't... Kasuka, I don't know what you're talking about."

The brunet flicked his dark eyes towards his brother; still keeping himself facing the empty shop before them as he spoke again. "Nii-san... you have something you need to ask."

"You're not making any sense," Shizuo tried, words moving to leave him as sadness began to hit him hard and relentlessly. "What... are you doing here?"

"...There's something you want to ask me." The chilly autumn breeze swifts though; shifting his hair a bit across his face, and Kasuka makes no move to fix the displacement of his bangs.

_But I just asked you several questions, _Shizuo wanted to say; but something told him that none of those were the right one. "Kasuka..." Shizuo swallowed thickly before he could continue. Had to collect himself a bit to keep from falling apart. "What happened... last night?"

"You don't want me to tell you." It was a statement – a fact. The ground before them was matted with soggy leaves and shattered glass; Kasuka's designer shoe drifted forward a bit, smoothing over a couple of the red and brown foliole's.

"What do you mean by that?"

With his head tilted down a bit, the barest of a nearly non-existent smile graced Kasuka's lips. Shizuo knew him, and understood him better than anyone could ever hope to; and he was beginning to comprehend that at the moment, his younger sibling was incredibly sad. That hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before.

"Still the wrong one." Kasuka stated, his tone keeping it's serene qualities despite the hollow smile and empty expression.

Shizuo was starting to get desperate; he was confused and felt like he was being twisted around. All of this had to amount to something; there had to be a light, or a clue – something to give him and idea as to what was happening. Nothing came to mind, just a contorted mess and turmoil that strung along to more disorientation – always leading back to the same place.

But he was beginning to get it.

"Who... kidnapped you?" Shizuo inquired; risking the words despite the clarity of the situation.

Kasuka merely gave a small nod, looking up at bit from his previous attention towards the ground. "That's the right question..." He leaned forward as he spoke calmly, addressing the elder. "But..."

Shizuo's breath hitched as the other finally turned fully towards him. Blood gushed from an open wound on the side of the younger males neck; his vocal cords peeking through as the muscles contracted and shifted from the movement; the entire half of his face splattered with thick claret. The blood continued to surge out with every passing second, quickly spilling out onto his previous clean and pressed gray shirt.

Trailing his eyes down the clothing that sponged and soaked up the red fluid, Shizuo quickly pushed himself back, as though trying to get away from his brother. His ears fell quiet; unable to process any sort of sound and his mind shut down. He could see Kasuka's lips moving – speaking something as his blank eyes bore into him dispassionately.

"This is a hallucination." Shizuo muttered to himself with wide eyes, as he stared at the bleeding form of his brother. "You're not real, you're not real, you're not real..." The words were whispered over and over again; a sort of broken chant, and he placed his hands over his ears, ducking his head as he clamped his eyes shut.

"_It's okay..."_

"This isn't real..."

"_...you don't have to be scared..."_

"...this isn't real..."

"_...I'll take care of you."_

"...this isn't real..."

"_Nii-san..."_

"...you're not really there..."

"_...I'll keep you safe."_

"THIS ISN'T REAL! YOU'RE NOT THERE!"

His fingers gripped tightly at shaggy dyed blond hair, and he remained in his position on the damp street bench, prattling the same words on endless repeat; steadily getting louder and louder with each time they passed his lips.

He only stopped just for a moment to catch his breath, the frantic onset of panic beginning to settle a little, and he cracked open his eyes to stare at the empty spot next to him; his brothers voice whispering in his head as the chilly breeze fluttered in a sickeningly icy manner. Barely a minute of lucidity passed, and suddenly Shizuo jerked himself forward; dry heaving bile on the pavement between his legs.

Stomach acid burned his tongue and throat, and Shizuo was now completely convinced he was loosing himself to insanity.

.

* * *

_the street lights whisper pain_

* * *

.

Thunder ricocheted; crackling in the atramentous sky that hung above his head in a bit of a gloomy manner. The ardent lack of light kept the scenery outside desaturated of color; leaving behind a grayish-blue hue to everything that touched sight, and Shizuo's boots trudged slowly and nonchalantly as he walked leisurely down the sidewalk of one of the more trashy parts of Ikebukuro. He wasn't sure why – something was pulling him towards the ally in which he had originally woken up in.

He kept one hand gently clamped around the other, whereas, it's bleeding had since stopped from the tiny cut wounds. The idea of visiting Shinra having long since been abandoned; he doubted his friend could help him anyway. It was all in his head – not a physical deformity.

_I'm going insane... I'm really fucking loosing it_; were the only words he could form – only words he could even think outside of the name 'Kasuka'. All variations of the same meanings, and phrases; played on an endless repeat as he stared blankly forward while walking with an all manner of calm about his person. It was beginning to get a bit dark outside; the weather and lack of sunlight making it seem much later than it really was. Shizuo guessed it was barely even passed 5pm.

It took barely over three hours for him to question his own reality and balance. A small grin slid across his mouth for a breviloquent moment as he came to realize this.

What a fucking funny joke.

A chill shivered through him at the steadily dropping temperature of the evening air, and his damp clothes were doing nothing to keep him warm. Not like he cared, anyway; it was always easy for him to block out things like that. He was starting to truly believe that maybe he really wasn't human – maybe he was a monster. That's what Izaya always called him, anyway.

He was close to the ally way; just had to round another corner before he was on the right street; but he was beginning to feel very small. Like a little kid seeking comfort from a parent, and he had to immediately berate himself for such a pathetic disposition. He gave himself a small shake – forcing away the feelings of insecurity so it could be replaced with a hint of annoyance and aggression instead. Loosing his mind or not, Shizuo wouldn't let himself fall that fucking far.

His ears pricked a bit; the sound of teenage girls letting out cries of sadness catching his attention. Looking in the direction of the wailing, he caught sight of a group of women and girls causing a scene as they stood before one of the large flat-screen television's that hung built into a rather large complex. He heard several shouts of "Yuuhei!" in between the crying, and Shizuo felt his heart sink as he directed his full attention to the news broadcast.

Shizuo's heart sank, and his world caved in as he watched the screen.

"_-found just earlier today. His body was one amongst what appeared to be a slaughter. There have been a report of 9 deaths, including Hanejima himself; the identity of the other victims have yet to be released. The scene was found by the hotel manager and a security officer at around 1pm; and the police department and forensic's are currently testing for DNA and finger prints as to a possible attacker."_

There was a room. Walls splattered in matted blood and gore; chunks of flesh parted here and there; but the overall scene had been cleared of any sort of bodies. There was nothing but the aftermath showing; yellow caution tape strung across the room as camera flashed blinked to capture the method of the murder scene.

"_Police have reason to believe the Yakuza may have been involved in the kidnapping and murder; however, the mass killing of everyone in the room has not become clear. In addition to the scene, a housekeeper was found with her neck snapped; likely having stumbled upon the scene and silenced. A memorial for Hanejima will be held tomorrow afternoon outside his Ikebukuro apartment; lead by his grieving fans."_

Shizuo felt numb – calm; serene, almost, as he turned away from the broadcast and the crying girls, continuing on his walk towards his original destination. He turned to corner onto the correct street, and his mind was quiet. Nothing was processing – nothing was talking, or screaming; he wasn't even thinking. There was just a hollow emptiness; even his ears closed themselves off into a deafening harmony.

Looking up while half paying attention; he could see the entrance to the ally between the two buildings. So close; yet... something was waning.

He approached the area with a peaceful disposition; movements languid and tranquil before he found himself standing still, facing into the ally with a blank and unreadable expression. He was empty; complacent.

"_Because you're just as twisted as I am."_

The voice whispered from within the area; ghosting across his skin, and Shizuo only took a few more steps forward.

He could see and feel it all so clearly; duck tape gripping across his mouth as he let out muffled screams. He could smell the thick draft of blood as he watched his little brother sitting across from him; deep cuts littering across his ivory skin whilst his expression remained as emotionless and distant as ever. His wrist caught and pulled at the ropes that bound him; begging for the strength to break them into freedom. The haze of hatred and anger and lack of control enough to due him in a sickening manner.

Turning to the side, Shizuo slowly pressed his back against rough brick; letting his boots slide forward as he gently lowered himself to the pavement. He sat there, half sane smile working it's way to his lips and growing with each passing second.

Suddenly, he could feel laughter bubbling up; starting as soft chuckles while he kept his unblinking stare at the wall before him, slowly escalating into louder and more haunting mirth. His stomach lurched, and he had to wrap and arm around his midsection as he only laughed louder, but then, the sound was beginning to sound more pained and agonizing.

Then he was screaming and screaming and screaming...

And he remembered everything.

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please review. i love to hear feedback.

there will be 10 chapters.


	6. the truth is otherwise

...

_to sail across the sea of trash_  
_the enemy is within_  
_dont confuse me with him_  
_the truth is otherwise_

...

* * *

.

**the five o' clock news is a fucking fantasy**

.

_wednesday_

_4:48pm_

_._

_.  
_

When he first received the call, his heart skipped a beat and his breathing fell short. He blinked a few times at the kitchen wall he faced, confusion settling his his chest, not yet rivaled by the fear racing up his spine. His sunglasses lay folded on the counter next to the cup of instant ramen he prepared for himself after a tiring day of work. It was gaining on 5pm, and the sun was still up; shining through the tiny kitchen window his apartment adorned.

"I don't...come again?" Shizuo questioned into his cellphone, a cold sweat beginning to form with the goosebumps on his tanned skin.

"_Your brother; he's gone missing_." The voice repeated - Kasuka's manager. "_We have got a team searching for him, as well as any clues. He vanished from set last night, and it's been over 15 hours since he was last heard from. His phone goes straight to voice mail, and no one knows where he is. There is a very high possibility that he has been kidnapped._"

Shizuo shook his head, honey-brown eyes widening a bit with fear as images of his brother flashed throughout his mind; bittersweet memories that choked his heart. "I don't understand..." He sounded strained, as though there was a tight noose cutting against his neck; crushing his vocal cords and shortening air supply. "I thought he had bodyguards – he has security... how could something like this happen?" _And why the __**fuck**__ couldn't you tell me in person?_

"_Mr. Heiwajima... all of Yuuhei's guards have been found dead. Obviously this is the work of more than one person, so we are expecting some form of ransom to be heard. There is a possibility that the kidnapper's may contact you, which is why we are heading to your residence. We will set up wire taps so we can trace all incoming calls from your -_"

The silence fell instantly as Shizuo snapped his phone shut. He stared at it for a few long beats, unable to process any form of information he had attained. He slowly sat the cellphone next to his sunglasses, not really feeling the movement in any sense. The low volume of the television in his living room sounded as the only form of noise, and found himself numbly walking in that direction; ramen long since forgotten. He no longer had any sort of appetite.

Stopping short in the middle of his living room, and gently picked up the remote before flicking the channel to the news. The face of his brother was immediately plastered across the screen, and Shizuo stared at that impassive look, subconsciously holding his breath. He barely understand the words that the reporter stated; all revolving around the disappearance of Yuuhei Hanejima, and/or possible kidnapping.

Falling to his knees with his body still in complete shock, Shizuo clenched his jaw and curled his fingers into a tightening grip. He stared ahead heedlessly, gritting smile gracing his lips before he drove his fist through the television screen; tiny shocks and sparks numbing up his arm in an unpleasant fashion.

Silenced reigned once again, nothing but his own breathing creating music against his deafened ears. Rage was slowly reciprocating; combining with the fear he already found himself saturated with as he sat on his knees; alone in his tiny apartment. He didn't know how long he sat, bitter grin across his lips as openly stared at the mess he had created, the stagnant air of silence, smelling faintly of tobacco and cologne.

Wordlessly, he moved to stand, calmly grabbing up his cellphone from the kitchen before he left his ramshackle apartment.

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* * *

_sign up with evil_

_wednesday_

_5:23pm_

_

* * *

.  
_

The second time his cellphone rings, Shizuo didn't really process the meaning behind the action. He had found himself heading swiftly - yet directionless - towards Shinjuku on a path he had taken all too many times before. He didn't slow his pace in the slightest as he digs his phone out of the pocket of his black slacks; he didn't even bother to see whose calling him as he holds it up to his ear, eyes still staring blankly ahead.

"Yeah?" He questioned, nearly automatic and mechanical at this point. He wondered briefly to himself if it could be Kasuka calling, the younger telling him that there was nothing to worry about and it was all one big misunderstanding. Fucking wishful thinking

"_Shizuo,_" said Tom on the other end. "_I saw the news... I just wanted to make sure you were okay._"

The blond still didn't stop, didn't even think before he immediately responds; "Sure..."

"_So you're alright, then?_"

"Yeah..."

"_I mean... has anyone contacted you about what could've happened?_" Concern laced his employers tone.

"Okay." Shizuo spoke into the receiver, his friends words not touching him in the slightest. The late autumn wind was a bit chilly; easily slicing through his simple bartender uniform. Maybe he should have grabbed his coat before he left – or a scarf, in the least.

"_...Shizuo_?"

"Yeah, I'll be on time tomorrow, Tom. Sorry." He snapped the phone shut as he pulled his cigarettes from his pocket; exchanging them both. Lifting a hand to cover against the cool air beating against him, he flicked his zippo lighter a few times before managing to successfully inhale a thick gust of nicotine. It did nothing to ease his nerves.

Smoke trails from his lips as he stuffs his fists into his pockets; a mild attempt at keeping them warm. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

.

* * *

_everything you do makes me want to die_

_wednesday_

_6:12pm_

_

* * *

_

.

Standing before the apartment door, Shizuo clenched his fists tight enough to draw blood as his nails bit into his palms. His anger and frustration were steadily building to the point of being dangerous on his own health, as he thought about what he was getting ready to do. He had never once felt any lower than he did at the moment, but he knew he didn't have much of a choice. The fucker had to know something – he always did.

He didn't bother knocking because he knew the little bastard likely already knew he was here. No sense in any sort of politeness in this type of situation, after all. Growling softly to himself, he lifted his foot enough to give one fateful blow, barreling the door in with brute strength. The wooden frame slammed against the connecting wall, cracked and splintered all the way up, though, it remarkably managed to remain on it's hinges.

To his great annoyance, the brunet that held his disdain stood just a few feet from him, already prepared for a fight with his switchblade at his side. Stepping into his enemy's living quarters, Shizuo made sure the kick the abused door shut hard enough that it rattled the walls around them.

"About time Shizu-chan." Izaya spoke, voice laced with a bitter sarcasm. "You've been standing outside my apartment for a good 10 minutes now." He was almost ashamed that he sent Namie home early; he was sure she'd get a rather nice kick out of this scenario.

Glaring daggers at the man before him, the blond shook with an intense rage that only escalated at the sound of the flea's voice. "Put your fucking toothpick down." He seethed, referring the the knife the other held ready for attacking purposes. "I'm... not here for a fucking fight."

"Oh?" The fucker sounded amused with that ever-so cocky smirk on his lips. Shizuo wanted to snap his neck. "Then what, may I ask, is Shizu-chan doing in my apartment today? And, for your information – you are buying me a new door."

"Shut the fuck up, you louse!" Came the snapped reply, before he drew a few steady breaths in an attempt to calm himself. The brunets mere presence was enough to set him on edge. "You already know why I'm here."

Izaya's amused grin grew wider, as he moved to lean back on his desk. He tapped the flat side of his switchblade against his cheek a few times, almost thoughtfully as he answered; "This is about your dearest little brother, Kasuka – correct?" Shizuo didn't make any move to respond, merely glaring hatefully at the man and everything he stood for. "You're coming to me because you need answers. You think I know something about the kidnapping and/or who could have taken him."

"I'll pay whatever the fuck you want, just stop fucking around and tell me." Shizuo growled, still rooted to his spot near the entrance of the office. He had no desire to get any closer than that; being in the same room was enough to make him feel disgusting. He had no patience for these types of games.

"Well..." The brunet started, looking thoughtful as he continued to steady 'tap tap tap' of the blade against his skin, arms half-crossed. "I may know something, but I have no desire to tell anything to Shizu-chan~!"

"You stupid FUCKER-" was all Shizuo managed to grit out before his anger snapped and he was suddenly lunging forward, tackling the brunet to his own desk, fingers wrapped around his neck. The movement cost him, however, as he felt the prick of Izaya's switchblade digging against his throat. One small flick of a wrist, and they both would be dead.

Back pressed flat against the desk, legs hanging off while Shizuo crowded over him; Izaya felt no sense of fear. He merely smiled up at his attacker, nearly laughing at their situation as how absurd it all really was. His pulse raced a little with adrenaline and the blond sneered down at him; hands tightening their hold to the point that he could only make small wheezy-like breaths.

A type of heat rushed through him from the danger of the situation, and Izaya dug the blade a little deeper, marveling at the way blood was beginning to trickle from the tiny cut. Izaya's breath hitched; he could slit his throat right here and now, and in the process have his own neck snapped.

"You really are a sick, twisted fucker..." Shizuo ground out at the brunets glassy expression of obvious arousal and enjoyment. "I should kill you."

With a chuckle escaping from his slowly crushing vocal cords, Izaya used his free hand to lightly clasp onto one of the blonds tanned wrists. Not really trying to pull away from the choke hold; more testing the waters than anything. "Yeah... but you're not... going to." He managed to rasp out, his voice barely reaching above a whisper. "I have...the information... that you need."

Shizuo hated the bastard so much – and hated the fact that the louse was right. He squeezed just a little bit tighter, satisfied in the way a sharp gasp was emitted, pressing down against the brunet a little harder for a brief moment. Growling to himself, he released his grip and backed off, running irritated fingers through his hair as he put some distance between them. His neck itched a little from what was no-doubt blood tickling his collarbone; he wiped his hand over the tiny cut haphazardly.

Huffing out an angered breath, Shizuo finally turned back around to watch the brunet rub at the bright red hand-prints that now decorated his neck with a frown. Serves the bastard right.

"I'll empty out my entire bank account." He conceded, hands returning to their previously tight fists. "Tell me what you know."

Izaya took a few concentrated breaths, trying to revive the oxygen flow though his system before he walked around his desk to take a seat in his leather chair. Leaning back in a relaxed fashion, he kept his switchblade open and in hand in case the blond decided to attack again.

"Hmmm..." The brunet started, clearing his throat briefly before speaking again; his voice much more hoarse than before. "Well, Shizu-chan... you should know by now that you have a lot of enemies. I mean, walking around beating up humans for the minimal basic reason that they merely looked at you wrong? You're bound to piss off some people. You would think that you'd have learned that by now, after High School, and all..."

"Get on with it!" Shizuo snapped, teeth barring in a barely contained rage.

Izaya merely smirked, tilting his head slightly as if out of amusement. "As I was saying, Shizu-chan... you have a lot of enemies. A lot more than you realize. Some of them have contacts with shady individual's that could most certainly destroy your life and everything you hold dear. They've got more power than you could ever hope to possess, and are well versed in the matters of torture and manipulation..."

Shizuo was loosing his nearly non-existent patience. "You're not making any fucking sense."

Rolling his eyes, the brunet continued on, now moving to tap his blade against his desktop. "Shizu-chan; what happens when you piss of the leader of a notorious gang that has ties and connections with politicians, police, and the entire legal system? They get their revenge - they eradicate you."

Blinking for a moment as it dawned on him, Shizuo furrowed his eyebrows in realization. "You're talking about the Yakuza... aren't you?"

"Ding, ding!" The brunet sang. "Looks like the protozoan really can think for himself – what a surprise!"

"Shut the fuck up before I kill you." Shizuo threatened, taking a few steps closer to the desk that the other occupied.

Leaning back in his chair, Izaya grinned up at the blond with an expression clearly stating his absolute joy in the matter. "Ah, ah~" he ticked, even having the audacity to wag his index finger at him. "I still have a lot more... but I won't tell Shizu-chan anything if he just wants to kill me. It's no fun if I'm dead." He explained in a purposely childish manner that he knew would piss the other off to no end.

Smoldering with a deep seated hatred and anger, he stared the other down with a look of contempt. "I told you; I'll empty my goddamn bank account for this."

Leaning forward to put his elbows on the ebony desktop before him, he regarded the blond carefully with dangerously glinting eyes. "Mmm... yes, you did. But I don't want your money."

"...What do you want, then?" Shizuo caved, angry with himself for even beginning to fall into this obvious web. This was getting him no where fast, and he was frankly getting sick of looking at the antagonistic face.

Silence greeted him, as the brunet continued to stare up at him, not even bothering to blink. The sun was beginning to set, dimming the light throughout the office to a warmer, sepia color than it's previous brightness. Part of him was thinking about grabbing the brunet and tossing him out his overly sized window; cheering to himself as he would fall to his death. But he wouldn't.

The movements were sly – smooth like an animal stalking it's prey. Izaya stood from his leather chair, closing his switchblade and placing on the edge of the desk in a meaningful manner. Shizuo knew where this was heading, and he was disgusted with himself for not killing the man.

Circling around until he was standing before the blond, Izaya smirked that playful smile that always let others know this was all just an amusing game to him, like the sadistic fuck he truly was. Shizuo was not having it, but he couldn't afford to let his only source of information and clues on the matter slip away.

"You already know what I want."

A pale hand pressed against his chest, as the brunet stepped closer. Baring his teeth in disgust, Shizuo quickly shoved the man away, stalking away a few feet in order to distance himself in retaliation. "I'm not fucking doing that. Not again." Came his instant reply – he should have known it would boil back down to this.

Izaya made a noncommittal noise, as though he knew that would be the blonds reaction – as though Shizuo was his own little puppet, playing out the very scene he himself had written. "As always, you never play to my rules and standards."

Taken aback in confusion, Shizuo shook his head as he glared at the man that housed all of the anger and hostility he could ever hope to assert in his life. He opened his mouth with the intention of firing back an insult, but his words cut themselves short when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket; a low volume ringing alerting him to a call.

He stared numbly at the smirking brunet, swallowing the lump in his throat before he fished out the buzzing device. The screen showed as 'unknown', numbers having been blocked in a sense that meant there was no possible way to trace. He should have expected this, he realized, as he flipped the cellphone open, holding it to his ear as he remained silent. A greeting wasn't necessary, because the moment he had chosen to accept the call, a voice immediately started talking on the other end.

"_Ah, Heiwajima Shizuo-kun... so glad we could have a talk. I was almost afraid you wouldn't answer!_" The voice on the other end was filtered; making it impossible to pinpoint whether it was male or female, as it egged him on with a baiting contempt. Shizuo kept his mouth shut, and opted instead for glaring pointedly at Izaya as his thoughts raced. "_Listen, I happen to currently be in ownership of a certain celebrity you may know. Well, it's kind of hard _not_ to know someone as popular as him... but, your relationship with him is on a more personal level. You know what I'm talking about, right?_"

"Kasuka." Was the only reply Shizuo made to give; eyes still locked with the red ones that belonged to the man who stood across from him.

"_Good, good! Now, we didn't want to have to cause any serious trouble here... but we wanted to let you know that this is nothing more than an act of retaliation. We want no money – no compensation. All I'm looking for, here, is a bit of understanding. Do you follow?_"

Shizuo could feel his heart steadily thump harder and louder in his eardrums, blood rushing in a silent rage that would no doubt need to be relinquished soon. He didn't know how to answer the person's question.

"_Is that a 'no'? Hm... well, let me put it like this. Without your co-operation, I will kill Kasuka – your precious little brother. That is a fact, and there is nothing you can do about it._"Shizuo tightened his grip on the cellphone, his anger quickly replaced with fear as he found it hard to swallow. He broke his gaze away from Izaya, even though he could still feel those red orbs picking him apart; assessing his every reaction towards the person on the other end of the phone.

"_I'm with him right now – do you want to say goodbye?_" Shizuo's breath hitched at the fumbling of movement on the other line. After a moment, a ripping sound tore across his ear, which there was no mistaking as pulling tape off of someones mouth.

A different voice sounded in the phone this time; much calmer, softer in a nearly robotic manner."_Shizuo..._" It breathed.

"Ka – Kasuka!" The blond exclaimed, ears pricking up to a more alert fashion as anxiety raced down his spine.

"_Shizuo... don't be fooled. This is all a -" _A shuffling could be heard, followed by a few loud smacks and soft grunts. Shizuo tightened his grip on the phone, thinking offhandedly that with a bit more pressure the device would snap in his fist.

"Don't fucking hurt him!" He growled into the phone, even though his words were useless as he knew the damage was already done. There were a few moments of silence as he listen to breathing and muffling talking in the background, and finally the previous filtered voice returned.

"_Ah, Heiwajima-san... I'm sorry that had to happen. But don't worry; he's just a little roughed up. Now... what I would like you to know; we wouldn't mind having a little bit of a meeting with you tomorrow."_

"I'll fucking kill all of you." Shizuo spat; pissed and annoyed at the voice, as well at the way Izaya quirked an eyebrow at the violent response.

"_Mm, we've already taken precautions with that. See; dearest Kasuka will be present... and if you do not co-operate, his brains get splattered across the walls. If everything is settled in a nice, calm and peaceful manner – then Kasuka get's released into your custody, and everyone goes home happy."_

He was in the middle of trying to articulate a proper sort of response, and suddenly the phone line went dead; leaving nothing but a steady 'beep beep beep' next to his ear. Shizuo slowly lowered the device, mentally screaming at himself in frustration because he _didn't know where this meeting was taking place._ Nothing was making sense to him – what the hell did they want, exactly? And Kasuka...

"Ne, Shizu-chan? How did it go?"

Shizuo took a deep breath to calm himself; to keep from going berserk on the man before him. "Unless you're telling me information about Kasuka... shut your fucking mouth." He seethed, trying with all his might not to scream at the top of his lungs; his attempts were getting more and more strained, and Shizuo could _tell_ he was going to loose it soon.

"Mm, I told you once. If you keep talking to me like that, I'm not going to tell you anything." The brunet was grinning and his tone was playful like this was the most entertaining game he's ever played. His placed his hands on his hips as he addressed the blond, movements wide and frivolous. "You gotta be nice to me, if you want to know what I have to say~!"

Shizuo was beginning to feel defeated; but, unfortunately he was always a rather sore loser. He pocketed his cellphone with jittery movements, jaw clamped tightly shut before he threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. He couldn't take much more of this.

"Okay." He conceded with a heavy sigh, trying his best to keep most of the bite out of his words.

Izaya tilted his head a little before he slowly approached the obviously pissed off blond; he felt no fear – no apprehension at being so close to someone who could easily rip his heart out with such a brute display of strength. In fact, he was more attracted to it than anything; he loved the mans hostility and violence. He found it endearing in a twisted fashion.

He placed his hands gently on the blond shoulders, stifling his own laughter at the way the taller man drew his own into angry, shaking fists at his side. He was actually practicing self restraint for once, as it seemed. Izaya found this endlessly amusing, and he moved to step forward, placing a little bit of pressure against Shizuo to make him slowly walk backwards.

Shizuo could tell where this was going, and he closed his eyes in utter disgust and irritation as he felt edge of Izaya's couch touch the back of his knees. Giving in to the informants physical direction, he lowered himself to sit on the plush and overly expensive leather, glaring hatefully up at the brunet who kept his hands firmly place on his shoulders.

"See? I like you so much more when you play by my rules." Izaya established as he closed in, stopping himself short as he stood between Shizuo's legs. One look at the blond's face could tell all of the revulsion that the other felt, but Izaya was just as entertained by the reaction as always. The dept collector kept his hands at his sides, gripping a bit at the leather couch by way of grounding.

Lifting one knee up, Izaya placed it next to his enemy's thigh, repeating the action with the other and in a fluid movement he was straddling him. Shizuo pressed back into the couch as though trying to get away from him, and the informant merely chuckled a bit at the obvious discomfort. "How about a little now, and a little later... Hm?" He questioned as he would his arms around the others neck in a teasing manner.

Shizuo turned his head away; closing his eyes and baring his teeth a little because he was almost certain he was about to kill the informant.

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* * *

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an:

Everything will makes sense in the end. It will all come together.

It's not what you think. Everything you think you know is a lie.

_Please review_.


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